


Beach Waves

by nicky_writes



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Amnesia, Beach Sex, Dark, Day At The Beach, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Kidnapping, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:41:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23533231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicky_writes/pseuds/nicky_writes
Summary: One morning, you wake up to find yourself on a tropical island with a man claiming to be your fiance. When he tells you that you’re suffering from a case of amnesia after a diving accident, you want to believe him. But you can’t shake the feeling that your “fiance” isn’t being completely honest with you…
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 27
Kudos: 249





	Beach Waves

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, guys! I hope you guys enjoy this Bucky fic I wrote a while back. One of my amazing followers on tumblr asked me to post it here; I hope you enjoy!

The first thing you registered when you woke up was the sound of waves crashing on the beach. You smiled and snuggled into the sheets beneath you, the scent of water thick in the air as a breeze drifted in through the window. You didn’t remember leaving your window open, nor did you remember putting on a playlist of ocean waves before going to sleep. Come to think about it, you were stretched out pretty far on the mattress beneath you; typically, you’d have at least a foot sticking out if you laid like this on your twin-sized mattress at home…

Your eyes shot open, and you saw pure white sheets obstructing your vision. When you sat up, you took in the large bedroom around you; chestnut wood made up the floors and walls, and there were huge windows decorated with sheer curtains directly to your right. What lay beyond the windows was what really surprised you, though.

A pristine beach with white sand and turquoise water lay on its other side, palm trees dotting the shoreline every hundred yards or so.

“Well,” you whispered to yourself, “as far as dreams go, this is pretty good.”

You stretched your stiff limbs and stood up from the bed, feeling a plush faux-fur rug beneath your feet. You frowned, wiggling your toes around in the material; it _felt_ real. You took a few cautious steps over to the window, looking out over the scene beyond; the breeze blowing into the room felt real, too.

There were no people out on the beach, and there had been no one in the room when you woke up. With the same frown plastered onto your face, you opened the first door you came to, but it only led out into a bathroom. There was a large, open window in it, too, right in front of the bathtub. You imagined how peaceful it must be to take a bath while watching the sunset, but you shook that thought away. With every passing moment, this was seeming like less of a dream and more of an impossible reality, and you needed to find out which one was the truth.

The next door you came to opened into a large, open room. There were sofas and chairs positioned around a huge tv, and beyond that there was a kitchen decked out with the newest appliances on the market. The room was full of windows, too, most of which were open.

You looked down at your body and realized with a start that you weren’t wearing your same old ratty pajamas, either; you were in a lacy, white nightgown that came down to your knees. The fabric was alarmingly sheer, revealing to anyone who might see that you were naked underneath it.

Feeling the first twinge of fear strike through you, you pinched yourself. When nothing changed, you did it again, hard enough to make you wince; there was no denying that you were awake.

You were about to start panicking when you saw the note. Over on the dining table, there was a crisp sheet of white paper folded down the middle, and your name was on written on the front of it with messy handwriting. Padding over on your bare feet, you picked the paper up and opened it.

_Hey, doll. If you’re reading this, then I’ll be back soon. There’s food in the fridge if you’re hungry._

There was no signature to be seen, and after rereading the short paragraph, you walked into the kitchen as instructed; you _were_ feeling pretty hungry. Your eyes landed on a bowl of fruit, and you took out a banana before going over to the fridge. It was chock full of food, but you only grabbed a bottle of water from it before walking back to the dining table and starting to peel the banana.

 _Don’t freak out_ , you were telling yourself. _There’s probably a logical reason why you’re here. Maybe you have amnesia, and this is like 51 st Dates. Maybe there’s a glitch in the Matrix or something. Maybe-_

You were broken out of your thoughts by the sound of someone clearing their throat behind you, and you stood up and turned around so fast that your head spun with the movement.

Standing behind you was, quite possibly, the most attractive man you’d ever seen. He had long brown hair that came down to his chin, and it was wet. In fact, his whole body was wet, and the only thing he was wearing were a pair of black swim trunks. You quickly focused on his left arm; it was made entirely out of metal. You could see the angry seam of scar tissue where it met his shoulder, and after your eyes ran along the line of the metal, they couldn’t help but trial downwards to the _impressive_ six-pack he was sporting.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” he smiled, walking over to you. “Sorry for leaving you like that; I just went down to the beach for a swim.”

Your mouth opened to respond, but after a moment you just shut it again. The man arched his eyebrows at you, raising his flesh hand and pressing it against your forehead.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. “You look confused.”

“I…” You cleared your throat, your voice still raspy from sleep. “I _am_ confused. Where am I?”

The man frowned, letting his hand fall back down to his side.

“We’re on Tony’s island, baby,” he explained. “We came here on vacation, remember? To celebrate?”

“Celebrate?” you echoed. He smiled again, though there was a glint of confusion in his eyes.

“Our engagement?” You watched, dumfounded, as he lifted your left hand, holding it up to show off the gorgeous ring resting upon it. It was made of white gold, a breathtaking diamond resting in its center surrounded by a thin ring of opal.

“…Engagement?”

“Baby, you do remember, don’t you? I asked you at the party?”

Your mind was completely blank, and the concern on his face only grew when you shook your head.

“I… There has to be some kind of mistake,” you assured him. “I… I don’t know who you are. We’ve never met.”

“…Shit.” He shook his head, setting his hand on the side of your face ever so gently. For some reason, the contact didn’t bother you. “Honey, I know you hit your head hard yesterday, but I had no idea that it was this bad.”

“I hit my head?”

“Yeah. We went swimming together, and you dove in where the water was shallow. Hit your head on a rock. I carried you back here, and at first you were fine, just a little dazed. But now…”

You felt your heart sink like a rock, and you tried to remember something, anything, of what this guy was telling you.

“I’m really sorry, sir,” you spoke. “But the last thing I remember was going to bed in my dorm room; I’m in college.”

“Hon, you graduated six months ago, the week after we met. You seriously don’t remember?”

You shook your head, feeling a pang of guilt as he bowed his head, letting out a sigh.

“I… I’m really sorry,” you whispered. “Um… What is your name?”

The man gave you a sad half-smile, letting his hand fall to your shoulder.

“…My name is James,” he said. “But you’ve always called me Bucky.”

________

You were seated on a beach towel, running your hand along the soft, warm sand to your right. Despite having a wicked case of amnesia, you supposed that it was very nice here.

Bucky had really been so understanding of the situation; he’d made you sit still while he checked out the bump on your head (it was hardly noticeable at this point, but your head _had_ felt a bit tender when he’d touched it, which only further convinced you that he was telling the truth). After that, he’d let you know that he didn’t have any way of communicating with anyone off the island. But, before the two of you had left, he’d scheduled a small plane to pick the two of you up eight days later.

In the meantime, all that was left to do was relax and enjoy your vacation as much as possible. After saying you’d like some time alone to think, he’d quickly gotten you a beach towel and suggested you lay out in the sun for a little bit.

So now, as you lay there, you tried to rack your brain for anything at all that struck you as familiar about Bucky. You really did feel bad for him; if what he was saying was true, and you really believed that it was, then it must be hard on him. As you pondered his face, you _did_ feel as if he was a little bit familiar. His eyes were what caught on your memory; you swore that you’d seen him before.

“Honey?”

You jumped and turned around, looking up to see Bucky standing next to you. He was still only wearing his swim trunks, but a pair of aviator sunglasses were perched on his nose as well, and he was holding two cups of what looked to be some kind of blended beverage.

“Hey, Bucky.” You tried to smile at him, sitting up on your elbows. “Whatcha got there?”

“Well, I know you said you wanted to be alone for a little bit,” he started. “And I promise I’ll get out of your hair if you still want me to, but I made pina coladas for us…”

You laughed, picturing a buff guy like him making such a girly cocktail, but you gladly took the glass he offered you.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind if you sat with me for a little bit,” you said. “I have some questions I’d like to ask you.”

“I’m sure you do.” Bucky sat down beside you, not batting an eye as he rested in the sand. You giggled again as he took a sip through the straw in his drink; it was pink to match yours.

“You know,” you joked, “you strike me more as a whiskey kind of guy.”

“I was for the longest time,” he smiled. “But after you ordered one of these things at the bar we go to on the weekends, I tried one and, uh… Well. Let’s just say that this isn’t the first time you’ve teased me about it. But they’re _good_.”

“Happy’s?” you asked. “Is that the bar you’re talking about?”

“The one and only. It’s where we had our first date.”

You sipped your drink, humming when the alcohol left just the slightest burn down your throat.

“Tell me about it?” You turned to him, giving him a smile. “Maybe if you tell me about our life together, I’ll start to remember it.”

Bucky smiled and took your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it before letting it fall back into the sand.

“That’s an excellent idea, baby,” he praised, smirking as your eyelashes fluttered.

“So, like I said, our first date was at Happy’s,” he began. “We were both there alone; your friends had cancelled on you, and I had just moved to the area, so I had no friends to speak of. I was sitting there when you walked up and I just… I knew that you were something special.

“I watched you for a little bit afterwards,” he admitted, giving you a sheepish smile. “And you didn’t even notice. But, eventually, I worked up the courage to do something about those butterflies you’d put in my stomach. I asked if I could buy you a drink, and you said yes, and, well… The rest is history.”

You smiled; you still couldn’t for the life of you recall this ever happening, but it was a nice thought.

“So you watched me for a while, huh? Like some kind of creep?”

He laughed at your joke, but his jaw ticked and his eyes shifted away from you as he did.

“I didn’t mean that,” you assured him. “You seem…really nice, actually. Tell me more about us.”

Bucky’s smile softened, and he started telling you story after story about the six months you’d known each other for. He told you about your parents’ first reactions to him, about how he’d helped you stay up all night studying for your finals just five days after meeting you, about the first kiss you shared. You’d felt as if your cheeks were on fire during the entirety of that story, but you’d still listened with a smile.

“When was the first time you told me that you loved me?” you suddenly asked, and a sly smirk stretched across his face.

“Who says I have?”

You chuckled and shoved his shoulder.

“Some fiancé you are,” you giggled.

“You know I’m joking, baby,” he grinned. You still couldn’t get used to his little pet names for you, but you also couldn’t help but adore them.

“I told you that I loved you after we dated for…about two weeks,” he recalled. “It was a little soon, I knew, but… I needed you to know. We’d gone out to dinner that night, and afterwards we’d gone back to my place to watch a movie. I can’t even remember what the movie was called, but I know that it made you laugh. And before I knew it, I was telling you.”

You smiled, scooting closer to him.

“Did I say that I loved you back?” you asked. Bucky smiled mischievously.

“You did later on that evening,” he winked. “It was also the first time we made love, you see.”

Your eyes widened and you turned back towards the beach, biting your lip when you heard Bucky laugh.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he chuckled, setting his metal hand on your back. “I didn’t mean to make you all flustered.”

You turned back to him and gave him a half-smile, allowing him to let his hand rest against your shoulder. All of a sudden, you felt painfully aware of the heat of his eyes on yours, of the skimpy, see-through dress you were wearing.

Without warning, you stood up, feeling guilty when you saw his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“I, um… I’m getting pretty hot out here,” you rushed to explain. “Do I have any swimsuits? I think I might go for a dip.”

Bucky once again was all smiles, and he stood up beside you, collecting your now-empty glasses from where you’d rested them in the sand.

“Do I have a swimsuit, she asks,” he joked. “She does, in fact, have a drawer full of them.”

You followed him inside, definitely not watching his impeccable back muscles as he led the way. He told you that they were in the top-left drawer of the dresser in the bedroom before going into the kitchen to wash the glasses, and you took that as your que to get dressed.

A few moments later, you were face to face with at least seven different bikinis. All of them were different colors and made of different materials, but they were all equally revealing. After making sure the door was locked, you took off your thin cover-up and eventually settled on a white bikini made out of a braided, rope-like material. It seemed to be the most modest one from the collection, but you still pulled your lacy dress on over it.

When you walked out into the living area, Bucky was sitting at the dining table, tapping away at a tablet.

“I thought we didn’t have contact with anyone off the island?” you spoke up. Bucky’s head snapped up to you, but his surprised expression was soon replaced with a smile.

“Oh, I was just using this to read,” he explained, locking the tablet. “I see that you picked out my favorite one.”

He pointed to the bikini, and you blushed, regretting that you hadn’t chosen a thicker dress to wear over it.

“I, um… I’m gonna go swimming now, if its ok,” you said.

“That’s fine, hon,” he assured you, waving you off towards the door. “I’m gonna finish with this last chapter and then I’ll join you.”

You didn’t tell him that you were absolutely fine with him staying there and leaving you to swim alone, but that was how you felt as you rushed out the door. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Bucky, but it was just odd, being around a man who seemed to know everything about you while you knew nothing about him. And you weren’t naive; you’d seen how his eyes had been lingering on you all day. You had no doubt that the two of you had had sex before, but you couldn’t remember it. It might as well have been as if he’d never touched you at all.

As you waded into the ocean, you closed your eyes and let yourself float, letting the sea move your body with its waves. The last you remembered, it had been January, but now, six months later, it had to be July. You’d been living in New York for college, and all you could remember about the weather was it being cold and, more often than not, damp with either snow, sleet, or rain. Now, though, it was perfect – warm, but not too hot. And there was a constant breeze from the ocean.

You let yourself relax, the waves soothing your nerves. Was it really so bad? After eight days, Bucky could take you to a doctor, and hopefully they would be able to help you regain your memory. And until then, you were stuck on a gorgeous island with a gorgeous man who very clearly loved you. Maybe you could stop questioning it. Maybe you could be happy.

After spending a good hour swimming through the waves, you dried off and trudged back inside, your limbs feeling heavy after all of the exertion. When you walked past the living room, you saw Bucky poke his head out from the kitchen, giving you a smile.

“Have a good swim?” he called out.

“It was _amazing_ ,” you gushed. “But now I need a shower and some dry clothes.”

“Well, once you’re done, come back out and eat dinner! I’m _attempting_ to make a stir fry.”

You smiled at him over your shoulder.

“I bet it’ll be great, Bucky.”

With that, you walked into the bathroom, running a bath for yourself. You thought about Bucky as you washed, about how mysterious he was. You still didn’t know why he had a metal arm; you didn’t know where he was from or what he was like as a person. But, despite how silly it might have been, you wanted to trust him. He seemed like a good man.

It took you a surprisingly long time to find something to wear that was modest enough to make you comfortable. You found, right next to the drawer of bikinis, a drawer full of lingerie. Your face warmed up as you looked over the lace and silk, imagining packing them to wear for Bucky. Which set was his favorite, you wondered? Which of these had you worn for him before?

You pushed those thoughts away, pulling on a pale pink bra with its matching panties. Most of the dresses hanging up in the closet were similar to the lace one from before, but you managed to find a simple one made out of soft gray cotton.

You arranged your hair until you were satisfied with how it looked, and with one last glance in the mirror, you walked back out, heading into the kitchen.

Bucky was dividing the stir fry into two bowls for the both of you, wearing the same swim trunks but now with a white t-shirt on as well. He gave you a smile when you walked in, his eyes sliding up and down your body quickly before turning back to the task at hand. You tried to pull your dress down a little bit more, but no matter how you adjusted it, it still only came to about mid-thigh.

“You look lovely as always,” Bucky complimented. “If you would just set out a few waters for us on the table, then I think we’ll be all set to dig in.”

You nodded and did as he said, still flustered from his praise. You set out the waters and took a set when Bucky held your chair out for you.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, and Bucky just gave you another close-lipped smile.

“Gotta take care of my girl,” he shrugged.

When he set your bowl down in front of you, your stomach gave a lout growl, and the both of you giggled at the sound.

“I guess I should’ve eaten more than just a banana today,” you chuckled.

“That’s all you had?” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows. “Baby, you gotta eat more than that. You’ll starve at this rate.”

“It must’ve been my accident,” you explained. “I didn’t wake up with much of an appetite.”

“Well…still. Going forward, I want you to make sure you eat enough.”

You frowned at his authoritative tone, but you still nodded.

“Ok, Bucky. I will.”

That seemed to satisfy him, and he finally took a bite of his food. You followed suit, letting out a hum; it was really good. So, he could cook, too. Of course he could.

“Um… Bucky?” You spoke up after a few minutes of silent eating. “Can I ask you some personal questions?”

“Of course you can, doll,” he assured you. “I’m sure they’re nothing you haven’t asked before.”

You bit your lip, your eyes shifting to his metal arm of their own accord. He followed your gaze and flexed his fingers.

“This?” he asked. When you nodded, he held his hand up, watching the metallic fingers wiggle a bit before letting it rest in his lap.

“A long time ago, I lost my arm in a war,” he eventually explained.

“Oh my gosh… Bucky, I’m so sorry to hear that,” you sympathized. “Which war was it?”

He hesitated, searching your face as his mouth opened to speak. After a moment, though, he closed it and looked back down at his food.

“Would if be ok if we didn’t…”

“Oh, Bucky, of course! I’m so sorry for prying,” you rushed to apologize. He gave you a half smile and leaned over, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You couldn’t help the tiny, dreamy smile that came over your lips.

“It’s ok, baby,” he promised. “It’s just hard for me to think back to that time… It was so dark. Even after I, uh…recovered, things were still bad. But when I saw you… You make life seem bright again, doll.”

You felt tears well up in your eyes, and you leaned over to press your forehead into his neck, reaching down to take his flesh hand in yours.

“Bucky,” you whispered, “that…was _really_ cheesy.”

“Hey!” He grinned and reached over, tickling your ribs. You squeaked and scooted away, but Bucky didn’t let you get far.

“You think that’s nice? Picking on an old man like me?” he chuckled, and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you.

“Bucky, c’mon,” you smiled. “You can’t be any older than, like, 32.”

His eyebrows shot up, and a deep laugh rumbled in his chest.

“I have you well and truly fooled, don’t I?”

You narrowed your eyes. Something in Bucky’s tone seemed…a little darker than it had been a few seconds ago. You couldn’t help but wonder if the two of you were still just talking about his age, and you were suddenly aware of how close the two of you were. Your chair was pressed flush against his, and you were very nearly perched on his lap.

Before you could move away, though, his lips were on yours – soft, chapped, _insistent_. The part of you that felt nervous before melted away as your body reacted; no one had ever kissed you like this. You parted your lips for his tongue, and as it swept into your mouth, you couldn’t help but think that this was what all those romance novels were talking about – this is what it felt like when a kiss was _claiming_.

You heard the clatter of bowls being pushed away before Bucky’s hands were on your hips, lifting you up to sit on the table in front of him. His lips pulled away from yours, red and swollen and slick, and he started lifting the skirt of your dress, sliding his hands over your thighs and kneading the soft flesh.

“Bucky…” you sighed, cupping his cheeks.

For a moment, the two of you were still as you looked into his eyes. Your fingers could feel the roughness of his stubble, and you ached to know what his coarse facial hair would feel like against your neck as he kiss you, against your thighs…

With a soft whimper, you pulled his lips back to yours, wrapping your arms around his neck. You knew that this was wrong; you didn’t know him. He was a stranger. You were trapped on an _island_ with him, for god’s sake.

But this felt so _right_. You reasoned with yourself that this couldn’t have been your first kiss; the two of you had probably been intimate many times. You just couldn’t remember.

You gasped when Bucky pulled away and started lifting your dress up. You raised up your arms to help him get it off, and you felt as if your blood was on fire when he paused to look at your body. His eyes devoured you, lingering over your soft skin. You knew you had to look like a mess – panting as if you’d just ran a mile, lips still wet with his saliva.

But when Bucky’s hands traced the curve of your hips, running them up your belly and to your breasts, he was reverent. He whispered your name before leaning back in, attaching his lips to your neck as he pushed your bra down. Your back arched of its own accord when his thumbs started teasing your nipples; your mind slipped into a haze when he sucked over your pulse point.

All of a sudden, you felt him bite you while pinching your nipples at the same time, and the shocks of pain send a wave of heat right down to your core. You threw your head back and moaned as he licked over the bite mark soothingly, your hands settling in his long hair while he moved down to bite at the soft flesh of your breasts.

“Bucky…” He let out a groan when you moaned his name, and you let yourself lay down on the table as he leaned over your body.

His tongue was tracing one of your nipples when his fingers trailed down to your panties, gripping the hem of them between his two hands and _ripping_. You gasped as he tore away the thin fabric, tossing it behind him. You were about to protest; you’d _liked_ those panties, but then he rolled your nipple between his teeth, and every word you were about to say fizzled out into white noise.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, pulling away to look up at you. You pushed yourself up onto your elbows to meet his eyes, and he gave you a half-smirk as he moved further down your body.

His hands pushed your thighs apart and his eyes raked over your pussy hungrily. You bit your lip as he pressed a kiss to the top of your mound, and you braced yourself for what you knew was coming next.

Slowly, oh so slowly, Bucky pushed his tongue past your lips, licking a long, flat line from your entrance to your clit. You closed your eyes and hummed as he flattened his tongue against your bud, lapping at it softly; he had _definitely_ done this before.

The sound of his tongue running along your sensitive flesh seemed to echo in the room, and as obscene as it was, it only made you feel more desperate for him. Your hands tugged on his hair, eliciting a gravelly moan from him.

“Faster,” you begged. “Bucky, please…”

You saw him smirk as he complied with your request, starting to trace tiny little circles against your clit. Your toes curled at the sensation, and you thought that you could cum just like that, with his tongue flicking against your bud incessantly.

But then you felt a cold, smooth finger slide past your entrance, and your eyes flew open in time to catch a flash of sliver against your pussy. Your moan was embarrassingly loud as he added a second finger before thrusting gently. You covered your hand with your mouth, but the second you did so, Bucky pulled his mouth away.

“Nuh-uh, baby,” he chided. “Take that hand away; I wanna hear you.”

You whined but did as he said, moving your hand back into his hair. He gave you a smile before he started moving his fingers again, curling them in a way that had you seeing stars. His tongue found your clit once more, using just the smallest bit of teeth to start sucking on it.

“Bucky-!” you cried, hips rocking up against his face of their own accord.

“That’s right, doll,” he rumbled. “No one but me can here you out here. Be as loud as you fucking want.”

It only took a few more minutes of his attentions before you felt that familiar coil starting to build up in your belly. Your moans turned incomprehensible; broken syllables that might have belonged to his name were flying past your lips, but Bucky seemed to understand what you needed perfectly.

“Want you to cum on my face, baby,” he growled. “Give it to me, doll, _right fucking now_ -“

With a few more swipes of his tongue, you were gone, muscles tensing and back arching almost painfully as you came. Bucky slowed his fingers, letting you ride it out while lapping gently at your clit. Your eyes were closed but you swore you saw galaxies behind them, and you only came back down to Earth when your clit became too sensitive. You hissed and tried to pull away, and finally he moved away from your swollen bud, lapping instead at your entrance.

“You taste so sweet,” he sighed, licking up as much of your cum as he could before pulling away.

You opened your eyes and nearly groaned at the sight of him; his hair was wild from you pulling it, a few strands falling down into his eyes as they stared intensely back at you. His stubble was slick with your juices, his lips a bright red as he licked them. Your eyes trailed down, and you could see the tent in his swim trunks from how hard he was.

Before you knew it, you were being lifted up into his arms as if you weighed nothing at all, and your limp, spent body leaned against his broad chest.

“Oh, baby,” he mumbled. “I hope you don’t think we’re done yet.” He nudged the bedroom door open with his toe and marched over to the bed, laying you out on it before starting to lift his shirt off. “Just didn’t wanna fuck you against the table. Not tonight.”

Your eyes widened and your body felt significantly less relaxed when he shoved his trunks down; his cock was huge, the biggest you’d ever seen in person. It was thick and long, even bigger than any of the toys you’d used on yourself in the past. You gulped and looked back up at him, squirming a bit when you saw the smirk on his face.

“What is it, baby?” he asked in a falsely innocent tone. He crawled over you, spreading your legs again so he could lay between them. “Don’t go getting shy on me now; the fun only just began.”

“Bucky, it…” You gulped, pressing your palms against his chest. “It’s just… you’re so _big_. You’re sure we’ve done this before?”

He chuckled and captured your lips with his, sliding his tongue along yours so you could taste yourself. You tried to relax into it, even when you felt the tip of his dick run up along your slit. But when he positioned himself at your entrance, you tried to pull away to say something, anything, to get him to wait for a second. You were still disoriented from cumming so hard before; you didn’t know if you could-

All of your thoughts faded into background noise as he pushed inside of you, stretching you painfully as inch by inch of his cock sank into your wet heat.

“O-oh, my god,” he panted. You could hear the gears in his left arm whirring as he gripped the sheets on either side of your head, and you squeezed your eyes shut as he finally bottomed out.

The pressure against your cervix ached, but you still tried to relax into the feeling. Your gripped onto his biceps, your nails digging into his flesh arm, but you needed something to ground yourself. He pulled back, leaving only his tip inside of you before thrusting back in, and you blinked away the tears in your eyes.

“Bucky, it _hurts_ ,” you begged. “Please-“

“I know it hurts, doll,” he moaned. “But just relax; I promise it’ll start feeling good soon. Just be a – _fuck_ – just be a good girl and take it…”

He moaned as he started finding his rhythm, and you tried desperately to do as he said. You willed your pussy to relax against him, focusing so hard that you barely even registered him kissing you. Your wrists were being held down by his hands, and if his lips weren’t on yours, then they were on your neck, biting and sucking and leaving bright purple marks in their wake.

You didn’t know how long it took the pain to subside, but when it did, you opened your eyes to see a pair of stormy blue irises trained on you.

“I told you, baby,” he sighed. “Doesn’t that feel good now?”

You nodded your head blearily, wrapping your arms around his back as he started moving faster. The pain was still lingering, but alongside it there was a delicious pressure building up; he was hitting that same spot inside of you that his fingers had found earlier, and it wasn’t too long before you started moaning for him again.

“You’re so good for me, doll,” he breathed, breath hot against your ear. “Knew you would be fucking perfect…”

You could barely register his words as you felt your pleasure cresting, and you tried tugging your wrists free from his hold, needing to feel some kind of stimulation to your clit. You were so _close_ ; you just needed that little bit of contact to push you over the edge.

“Bucky, please,” you gasped, “Please, let me-“

He removed one of his hands from your wrists, but when you tried to bring it down to your pussy, he growled and pushed it away, replacing it with his.

“Let me,” he ordered, pressing one of his fingers against your aching bud. “I know what you need, baby. ‘ll take such good care o’ you…”

You let your head fall back as you felt your thighs twitch; you were close, you were so close. You didn’t even realize that you were begging him for your release, staring up at him with unseeing eyes as you frantically moved your hips against his.

With a few more snaps of his hips, though, you saw Bucky’s eyes widen, and when you felt his hot cum coating your inner walls, you finally felt yourself burst, cumming around his dick so hard that you _screamed_ for him. Your pussy clenched around him, milking his cock, and you heard Bucky let out a growl at the sensation.

He rolled his hips a few more times, lazily riding out the high, and you tried your best to kiss him back when his lips landed on yours again. You were quickly succumbing to exhaustion, though; between your shocking discovery this morning, your long swim, and being fucked until you were nearly passing out, your body ached for sleep.

You didn’t open your eyes as Bucky rolled over onto his back, pulling you to lay against his side.

“I love you so much, doll,” he whispered, and you smiled when you felt his lisp descend onto your forehead.

You drifted off to sleep quickly after that, but somewhere in the back of your mind, your brain was nagging at you, telling you that something wasn’t right. Why hadn’t he answered when you’d asked if you guys had fucked before? And what had be meant a few minutes ago when he’d said he’d known you’d be perfect?

You shook away your thoughts, forcing yourself to focus on the feeling of Bucky’s chest rising and falling beneath your cheek. It wasn’t long before you drifted off, but even while you were asleep, you couldn’t escape your anxiety. Your dreams were plagued by the feeling of being watched, by blue eyes staring at you from across a crowded bar, by waking up to see a shadowy figure looming over your mattress back in your dorm while you slept.

But the dreams were only that, right? Only dreams? They had to be, because the alternative was too horrible to be true.

______

The next few days went by surprisingly quick. You and Bucky spent the days together on the beach for the most part – swimming, sunbathing, getting tipsy off the drinks Bucky would mix for you. Or, rather, you were the only one to get tipsy. Bucky had this crazy high tolerance to alcohol, as it turned out.

Every day, you would ask him questions about your life together or about his life apart from you. You learned that he had a best friend named Steve and that they’d fought in ‘the war’ together. He never told you where he fought or how he’d lost his arm, but you never pried.

He also told you stories about your time as a couple. He described dates you two had been on, gifts you’d gotten for each other, how your family had behaved while meeting him for the first time this last December. He didn’t have any family himself, but he spoke so fondly of yours that you got the sense that he considered them to be just as much his family as they were yours.

When the two of you weren’t on the beach, like the fourth day, when it had rained, you watched movies together. Bucky hadn’t seen most of your favorite movies; he was an old fashioned kind of guy. He spent most of the movie on his tablet, reading that same book he seemed so obsessed with. He never let you see it when you’d asked to, asking if he could wait until he finished the last few chapters before loaning to you, and you hadn’t pushed it.

On your seventh day on the island, you woke up feeling pleasantly sore from the previous night. The two of you had been having a _lot_ of sex ever since that first night. You suspected that the two of you were slowly working your way through the Karma Sutra, what with all of the new positions Bucky had coerced you into trying. Last night had involved your legs bent into a shape that you could only describe as pretzel-esque, but you hadn’t complained when Bucky made you cum twice before he was finished with you.

Now, though, you woke up to a surprisingly empty bed; Bucky had made it a point to spend lazy mornings in bed cuddling. (And if those cuddles turned into morning sex, then all the better.) But today there was only a piece of paper next to you, just like there had been on your first morning.

_Going out for a swim; you looked too peaceful to wake up. Love you._

You smiled at the note before placing it on your nightstand and getting up, stretching with a sigh. You saw Bucky’s gray t-shirt from the night before laying on the ground right next to the hamper, and you walked over and pulled it on, excited to see what his reaction to you wearing his clothes would be. You could imagine the dark look in his eyes even now, and you didn’t fight the excited grin that came to your lips as you walked to the kitchen to make breakfast.

You settled on some oatmeal for that morning, popping it in the microwave before realizing that Bucky’s tablet was laying on the counter next to the stove. You picked it up, opening it before you thought anything about it; you only wanted to see what he’d been reading.

You frowned, though, when it opened straight into a text exchange; you’d thought Bucky said you didn’t have a way of communicating off of the island. The name “Steve” was at the top of the screen, and you started to scroll up through the texts.

The last few were just Steve “checking in” on Bucky. You scrolled past those, stopping only when you saw a longer one from Bucky’s friend.

_So when am I going to get to meet this mystery girl?_

**After we get back from vacation, punk. Can’t have you scaring her off just yet**.

_You know I’m happy for you, Buck, but it seems a little fishy. You’ve only known this girl for, what, a month?_

Your blood ran cold when you read Bucky’s reply.

**It’s been two months, jackass. But I know she’s the one, ok? Just trust me. You’ll get to meet her soon.**

Your heart was hammering when you swiped down on the page, staring at the date unbelievingly.

“I really wish you hadn’t seen that.”

You dropped the tablet to the floor with a clatter, turning to see Bucky standing behind you, his arms crossed against his chest, his swim trunks still dripping with ocean water. You gulped, backing up until you felt the small of your back bump against the countertop.

“…Bucky,” you gulped. “…How long have we really known each other?”

He sighed and ran a hand through his wet hair, slicking it back against his head.

“Does the answer really matter?”

“Yes, it fucking matters!” you screamed. “You told me we’ve been together for six months, that I’ve been _out of college_ for six months. If that’s true, then how is it still January?”

Bucky looked to be at a loss for words, and both of you jumped when the microwave let out its long beep. Shaking your head, you stomped over to him and shoved his chest, trying to move his body out of the doorway. He didn’t budge, though, so you kept desperately trying to move him.

“You _lied_ to me!” you shouted. “I never had amnesia, did I?” You looked up when Bucky said nothing, feeling a twinge of fear at the blank look in his eyes. “…Bucky, I never had amnesia. Did I?”

The man sighed and put his hands on your shoulders.

“…No,” he finally admitted. “You don’t have amnesia.”

You felt as if your body had been dunked into a pool of ice water, and for a long moment you couldn’t move. You could only stare up at the man you’d spent the last week with, begging for him to explain with your wide, frightened eyes.

“I was going to tell you,” he sighed, rubbing your back. “After we’d spent the eight days with each other, I was gonna come clean. I just… I needed you to give me a chance. I needed you to see how _good_ we could be together-“

“Oh my god,” you sighed, stumbling backwards away from him, a hand pressed to your mouth as tears started falling down your cheeks. “Oh, my god… I had _sex_ with you. I _trusted_ you; I thought that I might even _love_ you-“

Bucky’s chest expanded with a silent gasp, and his eyes widened as he took a step towards you.

“You… You love me?”

You scoffed at the question and shoved past him, storming into the living room.

“Not anymore,” you spat. You turned around to face him, feeling a torrent of anger at the tears in his eyes. He had no right to feel that way – _he_ was the one who’d hurt _you_.

“Everything you told me was a lie,” you shouted. “The dates, the way we met, _everything_! How do I even know if your name is really Bucky?”

“It _is_ Bucky,” he insisted. “And we can make what I said true! We can go on those dates; I can meet your family. We can build the exact same life together that I told you about!”

You gulped when you saw the manic look in his eyes, shaking your head as you continued to back away towards the door.

“You’re fucking insane,” you whispered. You could see how hard those three words hit him; he looked as if you’d just slapped him, and you let out a scream when he started marching towards you.

You turned on your heel and ran out onto the beach, not knowing where you were going as you fled. But you didn’t even get to the shoreline before Bucky had tackled you. He forced you onto your back in the sand, trapping your thighs between his knees and pinning your wrists down on either side of your head.

“Stop it!” he shouted. “Just give me a chance to explain-“

“I’m not giving you anything else,” you yelled back. “I gave you my _body_ and my _trust_ and you lied to me! You took advantage of me! How did I even get to this island, huh? Did you kidnap me? Drug me in my sleep and cart me away to a private island for _psychopaths_?!”

You’d only been throwing wild accusations out at him, but from the guilty expression on his face, you saw that you’d struck a nerve.

“Oh my god,” you murmured. “That’s exactly what you did, isn’t it?”

Bucky gritted his teeth and growled, squeezing your wrists until you cried out in pain.

“I am not,” he spat, “ _crazy_. I’m in love with you, (Y/N). And I wanted to do it the right way; I gave you time to notice me. I’d go to that bar every single Sunday, watching you, begging you to see me. And one time, you know what? You did. Your eyes looked right into mine, and I thought that that was it; I thought you’d finally seen me. But do you know what you did next?”

You gulped, watching as his face got more and more red with the force of his yelling.

“Bucky-“

“You fucking turned away,” he continued. “You let some other asshole buy you a drink. All I wanted was for you to give yourself to me, but instead you forced me to _take_ you instead-“

“You’re fucking crazy!” you screamed, bringing your knee up against his stomach. He grunted, doubling over for a second, and you tore your wrists away from him and squirmed away, stumbling through the wet sand as you willed your legs to move as fast as they could.

You only made it a few yards before Bucky’s hand grabbed your arm, turning you back to him so forcefully that you thought he might have given you whiplash. He pulled your body against his, using his impossible strength to keep you there.

“Stop fucking struggling,” he growled. “You’re gonna make me do something we both regret.”

You flailed frantically, but it wasn’t enough; you were no match for his strength. He pushed you back into the sand roughly, shoving your shirt up until it was bunched up right under your breasts. Your heart caught in your throat when he brought his hand down _hard_ on your pussy, and you wailed as the sting seemed to reverberate through your entire body.

“You still don’t see it, do you?” He wrapped his metal hand around your neck, keeping you pinned there as he shoved his shorts down with his free hand. “That’s fine, doll, don’t worry. I’ll just have to show you again, won’t I? How well we fit together?”

Your eyes widened as he started stroking his half-hard cock, and you once more struggled, flailing your limbs around desperately. The hand on your throat only tightened, though, and you had to stop as it became a struggle to inhale. Your ears were ringing by the time he was fully hard, and when he loosened his grip on you, you inhaled greedily, gulping air into your lungs.

“Last change, dollface,” he growled. “If you promise to play nice, I’ll make this easy on you.”

Your eyes met his, narrowing at the threat that lay within them.

“Go to hell,” you growled. Bucky only laughed, though, roughly shoving your legs apart.

“Baby,” he chuckled darkly, “Hell is what _made_ me.”

With that, he shoved his cock inside of you, clamping a hand down on your mouth to muffle the scream that came from it. It hurt; it was even more painful than the first night. Typically, when the two of you made love, he would make sure you were at least wet for him before entering you.

But this wasn’t making love; he gave you no time to adjust before he started slamming inside of you, spitting on his flesh hand and reaching down to coat his cock with it before continuing.

“Not wet for me, huh?” he grunted. “That’s fine, baby; I’ll take care of you.”

His hand rested beside your head, and his metal fingers tightened once more on your neck. You winced and still tried to weakly push against his chest, even though you knew that it was of no use. His strength was unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

He was panting as he pounded into you, his eyes half-lidded as he watched your face. Keeping his hand your neck, his other trailed down to where your bodies were joining, pressing his fingers to your clit. You whined, trying to press your thighs together; it was too sensitive, too dry, to feel good.

“C’mon, doll,” he moaned, desperation clinging to his voice. “You were so responsive last night.”

He licked his hand, once more trying to coax your clit into feeling good, and you wanted to cry as it slowly started to feel good, softening the pain of him fucking into you and turning it into something more pleasant. You clawed against the grip he had on your throat, but he wouldn’t budge; you might as well have been trying to move an oak tree.

“There we go,” he moaned. “Now you’re starting to get wet – see? Told you I’d take care of you.”

You whined, feeling the corners of your vision starting to go black with lack of oxygen. Every sensation you felt was heightened; you were acutely aware of his cock inside of you, pressing against every bump and ridge of your inner walls. The week previous had conditioned you to like this, had made you crave the feeling of him stretch you, but you fought against that unwanted instinct.

Despite your best efforts, though, it was as if struggling against the pleasure only made it increase in its intensity. Every brush of his fingers against your clit felt like an electric shock, and before you’d even became consciously aware of it, your orgasm was hovering over you.

You tried to breathe deeply, tried to push the feeling down, but Bucky only moaned and shoved himself harder inside of you.

“I know you want to,” he breathed. “Cum for me again, baby. Just like you always do…”

He squeezed your neck even harder, and you felt your brain start to go fuzzy. The only thing you were aware of was the feeling in your core, and when you felt your orgasm finally, finally, come over you, you couldn’t even take a breath. Your pussy clenched and fluttered around him even as your eyes started to close. The ringing in your ears got louder, but somewhere far away, you could hear Bucky’s roar as he came.

Before you could fully process what was happening, though, your mind slipped into unconsciousness, just barely registering the sound of Bucky murmuring your name before you were gone.

________

Your head was pounding when you woke up, and the skin around your ankles felt sore and raw. You blinked open your eyes, wincing as the bright sunlight flooded your vision and stung your corneas.

“Oh, thank God.”

You turned to your left and saw Bucky perched on the side of the bed, leaning over you.

“I was afraid when you passed out on me like that,” he sighed, cupping your cheek.

You tilted your head away from him and looked down, seeing two lengths of ropes looped around your ankles, keeping them securely tied to the bed.

“Oh, that.” Bucky winced and rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought it would be in both of our interests if you didn’t try to run again. I’ll take them off as soon as I’m confident that you won’t try anything again.”

You blinked away your tears and stared up at the ceiling, pointedly ignoring the hand still resting on your cheek.

“They’ll find out,” you warned him. “The people driving the plane. When they come tomorrow, I’ll tell them what you did.”

A look that was almost pitying came across Bucky’s face.

“Oh, baby,” he cooed. “Did you really believe that there was a plane coming for us tomorrow?” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments are always appreciated. My tumblr is @nikki-writes-stuff, if you'd like to give me a follow. :)


End file.
